


Caramello

by Daryl_Alenko



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4957999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daryl_Alenko/pseuds/Daryl_Alenko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 10th Doctor and his Captain race across time and space for… a craving. (takes place roughly after the season four Finale)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caramello

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of the characters!
> 
> An older story I posted on FFnet, now moved over.

The klaxon of the Cloister Bell fills the console room of the sentient ship, the sorrowful intonation the ancient being's only way of chastising the misuse of her systems by her Time Lord. The last of the Time Lord's leans heavily against the hexagonal panels of mismatched knobs and levers, exposed wires, even a bicycle pump! His lanky frame is stretched almost to snapping, five digits resting on five different buttons, his other hand grasping a round wheel that squeaks angry protests, begging for a little WD-40. Or, given the origin of the ship, some cool, thrilling alien alternative that the Doctor could lecture on for a good hour and a half. After all, when living the chaotic life that the Time Lord barrels through, one never knows when they could utilize some obscure bit of information to save the day.

"Captain… tell me again why we're doing this? The old girl is protesting, as you can see…"

The Doctor's words were not snarky or malicious… weren't really all that interested, to be truthful. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to have his companion back in his life… it's just that… well, he's the Doctor. And oft times, he simply did not stop to contemplate what his friend was thinking. If he did, he would stop the Tardis in the vortex, and probably have the decency to blush all the way to the tips of his rather nibble worthy ears. After all, Jack's mind was notorious for being one tracked, even more so when the man he has been hopelessly in love with for over 100 years is involved. After all, there was a reason that, up until recently, a suit-wearing geek like Ianto had caught the Captain's attention with such ease. Sometimes in life, someone can be so very lonely, and so desperate for something they simply cannot have that they turn to the cold comfort that is offered by a sniveling, simpering little idiot... One blond and annoying, the other dark haired and annoying.

"Come on, Doctor… you know how it is. Sometimes, a person just has a certain… need. And it falls to their greatest, sweetest, kindest friends to help them fill that need… which would be you, Alien Boy."

The Time Lord twists and turns faintly, staring at his friend around the large central column, his burnt chocolate colored eyes rolling in agitation. And yet, Jack would see it… the tremble of those lips as the corner of the Time Lord's mouth rises in that faint hint of a lopsided smirk that sends Jack's heart hammering against his rib cage. How could one being be so utterly beautiful? And more importantly… why did that being have to be so utterly unattainable?

"Jack… I'm all too aware what friendship with you entails. So, let's get this straight, Captain… this is the -only- time I'm doing this. No repeat performances to satisfy your needs."

The lanky alien pushes the multitude of buttons his fingers hovered over, yanking the small wheel in a single, full rotation before stopping it.

"Oh don't worry, Doctor. I assure you, I have plenty of other needs that we can find fun and adventurous ways for you to satisfy… after all, I'm the man that can never die… gonna be around for a while."

The words are pure, charismatic cheek, the kind of silly lines the Captain would've delivered during his first trip on the Tardis for no other reason than to unnerve the 'innocent' little blond that lived on the sentient ship with the Time Lord. The immortal's plump, lush lips twist into that dimpled smile that all but one being in the entirety of the universe had been able to resist. (Well two, if you counted the now dead bastard aboard the Valiant during the Year That Never Was… a topic they never had and likely never would broach.) Unfortunately, that unswayable being happened to be the devastatingly handsome, lanky, Lonely God stretched so enticingly across the console at the moment, glaring in annoyance at the Captain.

"Oh come on, Doctor… you mean to tell me that after all of this time, you're not even the -least- bit curious what it would be like to actually kiss me? Must be losing my touch…"

The Time Lord throws his hands up in exasperation, straightening his lanky frame as he forces his dark, brooding gaze back down to the console… his distraught mind trying to follow a tangent that simply was not safe waters to tread. Because thoughts like that could lead to something that might shove the only remaining family he has, and his best friend, right out of his life. And after Rose… Donna… Martha… Sarah Jane… his hearts simply couldn't take a loss like that. He was already disillusioned enough without losing his one remaining life line to sanity… even if it was an overly horny ex Time Agent that was so full of himself the Doctor would love nothing more than to throttle him. But then… sometimes… he'd love nothing more than to see what kind of kiss the beautiful ex Agent could offer beyond the chaste little few second peck he had given him during his ninth incarnation. Of course, he had also given Rose the exact same kiss… The Doctor gives a single, faint shake of his head, forcing thoughts that had no place in his life out of his mind.

"You forget… I -have- kissed you, Jack. It was short, simple, and… little more."

He didn't mean the words as harshly as they came out, the subtle hint of bitterness lost on the Captain. No, all he could feel was the almost insulting sting of those words. Little more, hmm? Well, it's always good to know that the person that makes your heart continue it's weary beat despite how tired you are of life thinks that you're… little more. He stiffens faintly where he stands, his dimpled smile hardens subtly, his eyes glittering like the stardust he sometimes saw on the Tardis' visual readout… his words are soft, carrying a false edge of playfulness.

"Give me time during a situation where our lives -aren't- on the line, Theta Sigma… and maybe I could change your mind."

After a long moment, when the Time Lord doesn't look up at him, not even to chastise the Captain for using the name he shared with -no one-, Jack's arms would uncross, hands slapping together and rubbing with such vigor that the Doctor actually jumps at the sound of percussion that rips through the soft hum of the console room.

"Right then… never mind, Doctor. Just… forget about it. I'm going to catch a nap while you figure out wherever it is you want to go next."

The sound of cold chill in Jack's voice is enough to finally make the Lonely God look up, though he would be greeted with Jack's retreating back rather than his dimpled smile, or even that fiery ire that entered the immortal at times, leaving Theta's dual hearts hammering wild, wonderful cadence against his ribcage. No, Jack was doing what they all eventually did… he was walking away. And was it Theta's imagination, or could he -hear- the shattering shards of his hearts as fear began to grip them? Jack would do what they all did… despite his promises, and the looks so full of love that he threw at the Time Lord when he thought the Doctor wasn't looking… despite all of that, his Captain was going to leave just like the rest of them. For one infinite seeming moment, Theta Sigma would forget what he was… would be able to see nothing beyond the immortal Captain he loved so much -walking away- from him. He starts forward, the shining lights of the console not registering as he lifts a hand desperately toward the form that climbs the stairs of the console room, moving away from him.

The Doctor bites back a yelp of pain when his knee clumsily rams the hexagonal console, having forgotten that the hulking chunk of living machinery was stationed between him and the one he wanted so desperately. But, that sudden throbbing pain in his knee that snakes up and down all at the same time, encompassing the whole of his long, lanky leg would be enough to quell any foolish move he had been about to make. His hand sinks from the air, fingers no longer reaching for that which they could not touch. Instead, they squeeze tight into a white knuckled fist, the flat of it slamming down against the hard, unyielding metal of the console panel, a shrill, grating metallic whine from the ship the only chastisement he gets for such a rude action. He sighs, withering, falling forward slightly until he is practically hugging the machine… after all, it was the only thing he was going to be hugging and stroking lovingly anytime soon.

"He's going to leave me, Old Girl… like they all do. Maybe we can find a black hole somewhere, dear friend… one final adventure together…"

And instinctively, given his bond with the Tardis, he knew that his sentient ship would follow him into the dark… knew that she would give her life and expire at the same moment he did. And in truth, that's the only reason he hasn't allowed himself to fall victim to the temptation of ending it all. Well… that… and the being that has just walked away to try and find some kind of… comfort in the solitude of his room, away from the Time Lord he loved beyond reason. Because honestly, what kind of -reasonable- person falls in love with such a wonderful, extraordinary being -knowing- that they are head over heels in love with someone else? The Cloister Bell would give a single, solemn toll… the closest thing to a sorrowful answer that she would give her life partner. Because, yes… if Theta Sigma decided to seek that final end, she would accompany him to whatever waited for them beyond Time and Space.

The soft, whining grate of machinery would signify the Tardis materializing in the hanger. The warped, chipped blue police box would begin to fade into existence, the ghostly outline gaining substance, sending the air into protesting gales of force as something bleeds into existence that was not there moments ago, displacing Time, Space, and Reality to make room for itself. And thanks to the perception filter integrated into the busted Chameleon Circuit, none of the workers within the hanger would turn to watch the sentient ship forcing itself into being. But someone -would- register the landing of the ship… the heart broken Captain that is stretched across his bed, half asleep. It seemed like he never fully sleeps anymore, forcing his body to the very brink of suffering before relieving the urges that weighed so heavily upon him. (Though -that- one urge, he never bothered to try and satisfy anymore. Pointless trysts meant nothing to him now… even the carefree flirtation he had spent most of his life bandying about like some gift to anyone that looked upon him had become forced, almost painful to maintain. He didn't want any of those covetous looks of lustful desire. No, he wanted -him- to look… and as that was -never- going to happen, why bother trying?)

Steel blue eyes flash open when he instinctively registers the touchdown of the Tardis… one of the only Companions beyond Susan that had ever been able to feel the workings of the Tardis in a fashion similar to how a Time Lord feels it. But then, he was one of the only Companions to have ever truly appreciated the Tardis for reasons beyond where the old girl could take him, what she could do for him. No, he recognized the amazing, impossibly wonderful being that the sentient ship was.

He rolls onto his side upon the bed, grunting softly as he forces himself to alertness. What was it about this ship that made him let his guard down? The last three years at Torchwood he had been alert, defensive, never letting his guard down if he could help it. Three weeks back aboard the Tardis after the Doctor shut down the last remaining Torchwood, and he is more at home than he has ever been… hell, he's more at home than he had ever been on Boeshane, and that was his place of birth! With a faint sigh, he forces himself from the warm confines of the bed, marching from the room, his fingers snaking out to snag his shirt off the back of his desk chair. He begins to unbutton the blue material as he walks out of his room and down the stairs toward the console room.

"So, where are we then?"

The Time Lord looks up when he hears the Captain's sleepy voice asking where they are. He was -not- prepared for what he was about to see. As that dark brown gaze lifts, his lips compress into a tight line that keeps a whimper from escaping. The Captain stands a few feet from the console, his broad shoulders and arms tensed as he slides the soft blue fabric of his shirt on, the muscled planes of his chest and abs visible as he begins at the hem of his shirt, buttoning it. The Doctor lowers his gaze immediately, trying to remember where they were… what they are doing there… and trying to think about -anything- but the graceful, rippling form of the ex-Time Agent standing just close enough that a few steps around the console would bring them together…

Unfortunately, he finds himself suddenly plagued by a thought that is driving him insane. What would it feel like to reach out and run his finger tips across the Captain's chest..? To feel his singular heart beat against his ribcage… to allow trembling fingers to caress downward, feeling the muscles of the immortal's abs as they ripple and jump, the soft, delicious moan that Jack would utter…

"Doctor..? You alright?"

Theta tenses almost visibly, his cheeks colored with faint hues of red and pink, though thankfully, the green cast against his features from the console hides the fact that he is blushing, else the Captain would've -really- worried.

"Erm, yeah. Sorry, Jack… mind was wandering. Let's see… we are currently on Platform Auction Alpha… the leading auction house contracted by Earth's Auctions."

Jack's eyes widen faintly in disbelief, his lips twisting, fluttering… forming that breathtaking, dimpled smile that was carefree, beautiful, and warmer than sunshine. Given the thoughts he had just fallen prey to, as well as the feelings that the Captain could inspire in him, Theta finds himself biting his bottom lip faintly. At least he had managed to make Jack happy… maybe now his beloved Captain wouldn't abandon him.

"Doctor… you… you didn't have to, you know. It was just a… silly whim. We can leave, go somewhere else… somewhere you want to go.."

The Time Lord blinks slowly, confusion swimming deep in his burnt chocolate gaze. Jack was willing to give up what he wanted to make the one that had accidentally insulted him happy? Captain Jack Harkness would never cease to amaze the Time Lord… he was unlike anyone the Doctor had ever met. Theta's features soften, and he tries to give an indifferent shrug of his shoulders, the gesture coming off more sheepish than he had meant it to. But, when the Captain's dimpled smile widens and brightens, the Doctor decides that he doesn't mind how he comes off at the moment. It was far easier not to pretend around Jack… he could be himself, no matter who that was at any given moment. He didn't have to pretend to be an uncaring, energetic freak that was far too busy -looking- for trouble to care what was happening around him.

"Honestly… I really don't mind, Jack. We'll see if we can't get it for you. Though I meant what I said, mind you… this is a one time deal."

And again, the Time Lord wasn't prepared for what was about to happen. Jack, now done buttoning his shirt and tucking it in, would step forward, circling the console until he is standing beside the Doctor. And for once in his long, dreary life, when he slides his arms around the lanky male and hugs him gently, there is nothing sexual or wanton in the action… just a friendly thanks for the alien bothering to -care- what Jack wants. After so much time in Torchwood, where his team didn't give a damn about him beyond what he could give them… it was refreshing to have a friend that actually -cared-. But then, even during their brief time together during Jack's first go 'round, the Time Lord and the Ex Agent had been the very definition of best friends, despite Jack being in love with the other male. But then, when presented with the beauty, wiles, and seeming innocence of the Earth Child, was it any wonder that Jack had simply faded into the background like white noise? It was painful, the fact that he had not only been over looked so often, but left alone on the floating tomb of Satellite Five, but he was beginning to get past all of that, just glad to be back aboard the Tardis once more.

Unfortunately, Theta would hesitate in hugging the Captain back, barely managing to press the flat of his palms to the other male's back before the immortal is pulling away, turning toward the doors of the ship that would open out onto a brand new experience. He loved the thrill that came with touching the doors, with throwing them open and seeing what awaited you on the other side. Like a child about to enter their favorite candy store, he excitedly bounds down the ramp to the doors, looking over his shoulder at the Time Lord, silently asking permission.

The Doctor chuckles despite himself, the Captain's excitement somehow managing to obliterate that streak of melancholy he carries as of late. How did Jack manage to do that? Theta might not be able to explain it, but damned if he isn't infinitely grateful for it. He nods noticeably, watching the immortal take a slow, calming breath before throwing the doors wide open and peering outside. The Time Lord takes a deep breath as well, trying to calm himself as he watches Jack's features light up with excitement… and then he fights the sudden urge to march right up to the Immortal, close the Tardis doors, push him against them, and kiss him into oblivion. As Jack steps off the ship, Theta finally allows the whimper he has been holding at bay to tumble from his pursed lips. At the same time, however, he has to wrestle down a sudden overwhelming wave of panic when Jack steps off the ship… his mind screaming that if he let's Jack move away from the Tardis doors, the immortal will wise up and never step aboard again.

"Get a hold of yourself, Theta.."

The Doctor mutters faintly to himself, still leaning tight and heavy against the console… feeling the metal bite into the skin of his fingers as they grip the edge of the machinery desperately… trying so hard to keep his balance as the sudden, overwhelming fear courses through him. What the hell was wrong with him…? He's the Oncoming Storm… the Lonely God… the Killer of His Own Kind… so why the hell was he suddenly close to tears over the prospect of someone walking out of his life! He should be used to it by now… should actually be expecting everyone he meets to turn tail and run eventually. But Jack…? He couldn't… he wouldn't… by the Ancient Gods of Gallifrey, please don't let him…

"…Doctor? What's wrong… are you ok..?"

A silent, gasped breath cascades from the Time Lord's parted lips when he hears the Captain's words so very close… so close, in fact, that he can feel the warm tumble of sweet tainted breath across his cheek… can feel the gentle squeeze of a hand upon his shoulder, and if he could melt into that concerned warmth spilling off of Jack who stands close enough to kiss… caress… love… then he would.

"I'm fine, Captain. Lost in thought… allons-y! Outward and onward, Jack."

He uses his usual hyper active bravado to try and mask his current emotions, but as usual, when he turns and sees those steel blue eyes so soft with loving concern, he knows that the immortal doesn't believe a single ounce of the lying cheerfulness… not like Martha and Rose had believed it…

"Theta…"

"Jack, stop it."

The familiar declaration is like a slap to the Captain, his hand snaking off the Time Lord's shoulder as if he had been burned. Jack turns abruptly, moving away from the older man, stepping stiffly down the ramp and out of the Tardis once more. This time, the Doctor shoves the sense of panic down as far as it will go and steps away from the console. He grabs his jacket where it was thrown haphazardly across one of the standing struts, and shrugs it on silently. He could feel his hearts failing, emotionally. He can feel them breaking and shattering as that streak of melancholy settles twice as heavy and painful across his broad, lanky shoulders, causing them to sag faintly.

When the Doctor steps out of the Tardis doors, he freezes to the spot… and almost turns right back around and steps right back inside. If he had done that, he would've left… he would run away from Jack for the second time and never looked back. Why?

Jack is leaning languidly against a small stall, his hip resting against worn wood, the blue button up shirt he wore conforming to the muscles of his torso. His short cropped, spiky hair flutters in the fake wind simulated in the hanger of the platform… a tropical environment so that workers would feel better about the horrible working conditions. Not only does the Captain look beyond sexy leaned against the stall, but… the reason the Doctor wants to run..? A gorgeous young thing, lucky to be 25, if that old, was leaning forward in the stall, hanging on the Captain's every word, whatever they were. The youth was grinning, and after a moment he would reach up to sweep a few strands of dark hair off of the Captain's forehead, and Theta finds himself wanting to scream in frustration. However, he can feel both hearts lurch when he sees the Captain's reaction…

"Stop that, kid. Not interested."

The words are straight forward… no malice, no harshness, just blunt. He gently takes hold of the young man's wrist, and pulls the hand away from his features before dropping it. The young man's cheeks color an ugly shade of embarrassment, almost puce, and he hisses something rather rude… or so the Doctor would assume from the shocked, hurt expression on the Captain's features. The Doctor can feel something deep within snap, his hands clenching into tight fists for a moment before that slow, lazy smile that was as dangerous as a coiled viper takes control of his gorgeous features.

"Ah, there you are, Jack. Thought I'd lost you."

If Jack only understood the truth behind those words… because Theta is convinced that, even now as he watches the Captain, he is losing him slowly. The Doctor clasps his hands behind his back, turning to face the young man behind the stall. The youth's eyes are slightly wide, the green depths taking in the Time Lord with a measure of lustful desire that is lost upon the Doctor. He could care less if the youth had some urge to get to know him better for lord knows what reasons… he simply wasn't interested, so what was the point of even pretending to care if the youth existed? When the man opens his mouth to say something, the Doctor would scoff and turn, grabbing Jack by the hand and walking away from the stall. He was not laying a claim, per se, since he couldn't bring himself to vocalize what the immortal meant to him, but he'd be damned if he just stood there watching the flippant youth making eyes at him or at Jack… especially at Jack.

"Theta… you're acting strange…"

Jack's words are soft, not wanting to draw undue attention, but in all truth, the Doctor's sudden strange behavior has him worried. But then, it doesn't take much to make us worry over someone we care about. Jack had been worrying over the Doctor since the first time he stepped foot on board… always after him to eat, or sleep, or do any number of things that it seemed he should but didn't. Of course, the Time Lord would often beg off, either not commenting, or popping off some scathing remark before the Captain could say anything. But then… well… there were the times when he would smile that sad smile, and indulge his best friend. Not only would he indulge Jack, and -try- to take care of himself, but it was more than he would ever do for the other. Her nagging was just that… nagging. But when Jack confronted him…

"What? I am not, Jack. Like I said… just a bit distracted, thoughtful… Now, let's get this over with."

Theta pulls his hand from Jack's suddenly, the Captain registering the absence of warmth immediately, almost reaching right back out to take hold of him again… but he can't. He's not Rose… he can't just reach out and innocently take the Time Lord's hand. This time, it is Jack's turn to watch the Time Lord turn tail and walk away… but then, he's -used- to the Lonely God leaving him behind. He takes a slow, deep breath to try and calm his racing heart. And after what seems an infinite moment, he thrusts his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, shoulders slumped, and follows the energetic alien out of the hanger and into the main room.

It was a breathtaking sight, the main lobby of the Auction House space station… A large disk, approximately twenty feet in diameter, floats against the large, dome ceiling, a rainbow of colors spilling upward an out, splashing those gathered beneath it with a myriad of hues that inspired happy feelings, and was aimed at distracting them from the quality of the merchandise. There were several groups of gathered people with various 'priceless' knick knacks strewn amongst the vast lobby, but it took less than a minute and a half for the Captain to spot the item he wanted. And wouldn't it be just his luck, but there was a full two other people standing at the auction line. However, before he could move toward it, he feels the Time Lord's hand land gently on his shoulder.

"Now remember, Jack, this is a -silent- auction.. Emphasis on the -silent-. Now, I need the psychic credit card, Captain."

Jack rolls his eyes faintly at the Time Lord's words, his eyes narrowing and his bottom lip jutting out faintly when he is asked for his PCC. He quirks a brow and shakes his head slowly…

"Jack… it's technically my property. I'll get you another one later, alright? I need it, please."

Jack quirks a single brow at the almost… polite way in which the Time Lord requests his most beloved item. And, after a moment, he would sigh faintly and reach into his back pocket, fishing out the flat square of alien plastic that was slightly psychic and allowed him to purchase almost anything, untraced, no matter the cost. The hunk of plastic changes hands, the Time Lord pulling out his Sonic Screwdriver and sliding his brainy specs on. Which, of course, sends Jack's heart thumping wildly once more.

The Doctor runs the glowing tip of the Sonic Screwdriver across the magnetic strip on the back of the card, the faint blue cast of light illuminating the black… and after a moment, the black begins to burn and change, the strip becoming a faint, dull green. When Jack quirks his brow, the Doctor looks up, over the rim of his dark glasses, his smile faint.

"Currency conversion. The credit card was originally created to register as pounds, dollars, and other various Earth based currency. However, during this time, the currency is all run on systematic, semi-Universal credit. So, the waves of the card have to be changed to reflect that.. Picture it like… changing someone's stream of thought… and you should already know all of that, Captain, being an ex Time Agent…"

Jack can feel the heat that suddenly paints his dimpled cheeks as that magnificent, deceptively boyish grin lights up his features. He lifts a hand to run fingers through his flyaway, spiky tresses, his broad shoulders lifting in a faint shrug.

"What can I say, Theta? I just like listening to you explain…"

"Lorry.."

The Doctor says softly, the word, a shortened version of the immortal's real name, is gentle and without malice… is without almost every emotion except the slightest hint of frustration. The immortal was beginning to drive the Time Lord insane as of late, and it seemed as if the Captain had went from never flirting with anyone any more, to concentrating on the Lonely God. And it really was taking everything in the Time Lord's power not to reciprocate with his own cheeky flirtation.

Again, Jack flinches faintly as that word is used.. Lorry… short for Lorcan… a name he literally had not heard in ages. And in truth, a name he does -not- like hearing, even now. He turns about face once more, thrusting his hands into the back pockets of his slacks, his hands bunching the pocket material until his knuckles are white with the pressure of it all. What the hell had happened between them? They had gone from companions, to best friends… to semi friends… to captives together… and now, it was as if they were barely tolerating each other because there was simple no one else for either of them to be with. Which, of course, isn't entirely true. If the Doctor went to Martha right this moment, she would drop her fiance in a heartbeat and join him on the Tardis once more, if he showed the slightest hint of actual interest in her. And Jack… well, he could split Rhys and Gwen up with a single honey-tongued suggestion. But neither of them are ready to accept cold comfort at this point. They might not be able to work up the gumption to be with one another, but neither are they ready to be with anyone else.

The Doctor almost growls in frustrated anger when the Captain turns and walks away -yet again-! His spindly fingers tighten on the thin alien plastic, almost snapping the card in half in his petulant anger. If these two didn't stop, take a deep breath and just -talk- for once, they were going to either drive each other insane… or go their separate ways to find their final ends. Jack may be the man that can never die, but he would find a way…

The Doctor had managed to catch up to Jack once more and they walked toward the item that the immortal's heart was dead set upon having. As they walk, unfortunately, they find themselves wrapped in a stony silence that hurts the Time Lord's dual hearts. When had he and his best friend been reduced to such… sad companionship? True, he had called Jack wrong at one point, something that had almost destroyed the Captain despite the airy way he had seemed to take it. But Theta had gotten over that, or he wouldn't have asked the Captain to come with -him-. He hadn't known that Martha was going to actually leave, and yet, he had invited Jack to come back to the Tardis -with him-… not him and Martha. He had honestly though that that would be enough of an apology for the things that he had said, and an indication that he wanted the Captain back in his life… but apparently not. No, it had taken a -second- life and death situation during this regeneration for his Captain to agree to come aboard. And then, the way in which he had lost Donna… DoctorDonna… he fights back a whimper, his eyes closing for a moment as he pinches the bridge of his nose… if only he could get rid of some memories.

Of course, it takes so little for his Captain to realize that something is wrong, ever the one that could read him like an open book, this regeneration and the last. Jack stops walking and turns, gently taking the Doctor's hand into his own. And the Doctor shouldn't feel anything different in that gesture, should he? After all, he held companions' hands all the time… but damn it, the gentle care with which Jack takes hold of his hand. Theta swallows hard, quirking a single brow in question when the immortal turns those piercing steel blues on him.

"Ok, this is getting ridiculous, Doctor. -Something- is wrong… talk to me…"

The Doctor swallows hard again, looking down at their joined hands, where they rest almost perfectly between them… what should he say? The truth? A version of it? What….? He shakes his head slowly, he couldn't say anything, he's the Lonely God… a pillar of strength, blah blah blah… he looks back up, and finds himself instantly drowning in the concern he sees in those endless blue eyes… this was going to be harder than he expected. Before he really understands what he's doing, his hand starts to lift, fingers aching to touch the smooth contour of the Captain's cheek. But, the moment he realizes what he's doing, he changes course, yanking his brainy specs off, and firmly pulling his hand from Jack's. He shoves his specs into his inside breast pocket, looking out over the auction house lobby for a moment.

"What do you expect, Jack? Of course something is wrong… Martha, you, Donna… the year that never was, Davros.. Of -course- something is wrong, but I don't want to talk about it.. -drop it-!"

Heads snap in their directions, various genders and species looking on at the spectacle that the two create… two grown men, one red faced with anger, the other pained and chastised, arguing in low, short whispers. Jack almost finds himself growling at the Time Lord, his anger obvious for a moment, despite the pain that shines across his handsome visage. If that is how the Time Lord wanted it… then so be it.

"Right.. Silent auction, then?"

The Captain reaches up, his thumb trailing over his plush lips in a gesture of promised silence, turns, and stalks away. The tension would either kill the two of them… or explode into a rather feral display of… lord knows what. The Time Lord yanks the psychic credit card out of his pocket once more, fingers digging into the hunk of plastic dangerously. He had half a mind to slap the card across Jack's face and let him do this himself. He could retreat to the Tardis and contemplate running again. But then it hits him… that fear of abandonment. He couldn't leave Jack behind… not unless it was the Captain that walked away… he just couldn't. It would break his hearts to have the immortal go, even if they spent the rest of their time together like this. Because while it was obvious that they would fight, their different personalities clashing, he knew that they would have magnificent moments as well. And those moments were worth the pain, the fear, and the tension.

The Captain stops in front of the elegant white and grey marble table, seeing the photocopy of what he wants, the pristine white paper set before the photo was lined perfectly… spaces for your name, and your bid amount. At the top, the name of the Platform, the name of the item for bid, and the charity that the money would be donated to took up most of the header. Jack bites his bottom lip, his smirk ever so faint when he sees the fact that there are no names written yet. He looks up and over his shoulder curiously, seeing that there was no one looking toward this particular table, and his heart beats quickly again. Ok, so technically, he could go back to the time period on Earth that he considers -his- and get one of these any day of the year, but… there was something special about the very last one in existence… he had to have it!

The Captain's lips part, prepared to call for the Doctor and ask him what the Charity stood for, at the top of the header as that would decide how much he bid. But, since he had just childishly implied that he is not talking to the Time Lord, he utters a faint sigh and looks back down at the paper for a moment. Sadly, it would take all of three minutes, enough time for the Time Lord to arrive and look the sheet over, for him to remember that he had his Agency issued wrist strap.

'Ah, I see that the-"

Jack's hand snaps up to silence the Time Lord, not wanting to hear the explanation of who was sponsoring the item. No, he would look for the information himself… anything to keep him from having to speak to Theta at the moment. If the Time Lord opened his mouth too soon, Jack would either punch his lights out… or kiss the older being until he -himself- was knocked out. He flips open the wrist strap, his fingers working over the small keypad. The Doctor rolls his eyes in frustration and tries to speak again, at which point the Captain lifts his hand to silence him once more. A choked growl of frustration leaves the Time Lord, and he slaps the credit card down on the table next to the sheet of paper, spinning upon his heel and stomping away from the man he loved and disliked all at the same time. He had only ever tread such a thin line with one other being in existence… and honestly, he knew that his Captain could never be compared to -Him-. No, Jack was everything great that had been missing in the evil husk of Koschei. They might have their fights, their harsh, cold words… but never would they be reduced to what he and the Master had been reduced to… right?

Those piercing, currently cold blue eyes would slide away from the wrist strap to regard the Time Lord as he turns and finds something else to hold his attention. Jack sighs and wilts on the spot, leaning his hip faintly against the table. He reaches down, trembling fingers taking hold of the thin piece of plastic, shoving it absently into his pocket once more. It just wasn't fair… wasn't right. What the hell had changed between them? Oh, right… -he's- changed… become too much like the man he had loved for so very long, hoping that the change would help him survive. If anything, it was killing him just as it had been killing Theta for so very long. He looks back at the wrist strap in just enough time to read who the Blue Three were… apparently, they ran a mental help charity of some kind… and he would laugh sadly. If anyone was in need of mental help at this time… he sighs, turning to look at the sheet of paper for a long moment.

With another sigh, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his thin leather wallet. He shoves the psychic credit card into the wallet, and thumbs through the contents. He pulls out a single credit strip, twirling the thing between his fingers for a moment. Once the wallet is put away, he leans over the table, picking up the pen. He quickly jots down, Jack Harkness, 2 million 5 credits. He bites his bottom lip for a long moment, looking up through the veil of his lashes, seeing that a few different patrons had stopped to look at him. Yeah, that was him… ever the bit of eye candy. He whimpers faintly and stands, smoothing his button up shirt for a moment, and shoves the credit strip into his pocket, so that he would have it at hand if need be. All of this was suddenly feeling so… ridiculous. What was he doing here? -Why- had he convinced the Time Lord that this was so bloody important? He could feel the decision brewing in the back of his mind, and he knew that if his mood didn't improve, he would act on the thought, and it would kill him. But surely -anything- was better than going through this day in and day out… knowing that your existence, your every continued breath is a reminder, to the one you love, of one of the most painful times in all of his life, involving the greatest love he had ever had? Why had he been stupid enough to think that that void of darkness would not exist between them? Or that they would somehow be able to avoid it forever?

He turns suddenly, whimpering faintly again and walks as quickly as he can for the hanger he had just walked out of. Maybe the youth would still be there… maybe the cheeky little prick would be able to make him -feel- something! And there he was, leaning in the same stall he had been in moments ago, his strong, lithe form stretched out across the counter top, his hand propped beneath his chin, his smile lazy and, under other circumstances, gorgeous. And no sooner does Jack see him, then a wave of nausea erupts inside of him. Was he actually thinking of having some meaningless little tryst just to make him forget about the Doctor for a little while? Ugh… you'd think he'd have learned from the first time he strove so hard to forget the unforgettable. Ianto had been one of the biggest mistakes he had ever committed. Even now, to think of the prick-butler… he suppresses a shiver and turns about face quickly, almost running right into the surprised form of the Doctor. He could see the pain deep within the burnt chocolate colored eyes, and he realizes almost instantly that he is the one to have put it there. But then… that would mean that Theta had to -care- about… him…

"Sorry, Lorry. Didn't mean to interrupt you while you were on the prowl. Go have fun."

The words are practically scathing, the name thrust from the alien's tongue like a venomous curse, and Jack feels the sting of them. He takes an involuntary step back, confused pain coloring his deep blue eyes. Yeah, he had considered it for a second, but damn it, he had changed his mind! The Doctor meant too much to him, and now… to know that that is all the Time Lord thinks of him… he can feel his heart shatter into a rancid cloud of brittle diamond dust. Fine then… if that is the way it is…

"Alright, Theta Sigma. Here. Take this, do whatever you want… leave… I don't care any more. I'll find a way off this planet… just… get on the Tardis and leave. I'll go have my damned tryst, get the item on my own, and be done with it all."

Jack slaps the psychic credit card into the Time Lord's hand, not registering the look of heartbroken shock that softens those beautiful features as Jack turns and stomps away, losing himself in a group of passing patrons. The Lonely God looks on in utter disbelief, his own hearts hammering weakly in protest, feeling as if they will deflate within him. Breathing suddenly becomes hard… almost impossible, and he reaches up, his fingers clawing at the tie he wears, yanking the material ruthlessly to loosen the knot around his neck in hopes that it will allow him to breath. But what good was breath when reality is crumbling all around you? When you can hear your hearts breaking and your soul snapping?

Unseeing… unfeeling… the Time Lord walks forward in slow, shambling steps, faded trainers clapping silently against the floor as he nears his ship… his life partner… the only thing he could count on in this horrible, messed up Universe to never leave him. One thing constant that no matter how he messed up, no matter what mistakes he made, the -one- being that could never and would never leave him.

When he reaches the faded old public call box, his hand would lift, the corner of the psychic credit card jamming awkwardly into the weathered keyhole, his wrist weakly trying to twist the plastic, his lifeless eyes unseeing as he tries, in vain, to open a lock without the key. It takes him a long moment of no result before he realizes what is wrong. The card falls forgotten from his limp fingers, his other hand thrusting deep into his crumpled pocket, feeling the warm, thriving metal beneath his hand. And yet, even as his fingers close over the key, he can feel the life draining from it… can feel warm metal turning cold within his hand, and his hearts break even further. He finally manages to pull the key free of his pocket, the metal seeming to snag one very faint wrinkle in the fabric of his pocket, as if it were trying, in it's strange way, to fight the thing that the Time Lord was about to do. He manages to negotiate the key into the lock, and for a moment, the doors do not open… they remain stuck, lifeless… unmoving. The Time Lord sags forward, the flat of his palm connecting with the main door, trying to force it open with the little strength that still resides in heavy, worthless limbs. One strike.. Two.. Three… on the fourth strike of his reddening, aching palm, the door swings open and he stumbles inside… the light from the hanger near blinding compared to the failing, faded light of the console. He could not see his own feet, the light was so low… but what did he need sight for? Every nook and cranny on this old ship was perfectly memorized. After all, he had infinite spare time in which to gain knowledge of his life partner.

The last of the Time Lords stumbles up the metal grate walkway, his feet dragging faintly as he walks the perimeter of the circular dais… coming to a stop at the side of the hexagonal panel that housed the controls that would take him away from this horrible place… and, the Ancient Gods willing, would shove him right into the heart of a supernova, or the dead void of a black hole… anywhere other than this hurtful, painful place where he had lost his Captain… his Jack… his Lorry. He reaches behind himself, his fingers caressing the cold metal of the railing as he shoves himself forward, toward the console… his salvation, and his damnation. He had survived the destruction of his Homeworld, and his People, thanks to this sentimental old machine… and now, after all of that, after the loss of everything he has ever cared about, he and his life partner would find an end together… or so -he- plans. But that's the problem with living on a sentient ship… you kinda need to ask -her- thoughts on the matter as well. Yes, the Doctor was correct in assuming that when the end came, they would go together… but she'd be damned if the stubborn jackass managed to take them both from existence for nothing more than a stupid, childish misunderstanding between two beings that loved each other more than anything else in existence! After all, she often knew her Time Lord better than he knew himself.

Theta leans heavily against the console, squinting into the darkness that surrounds the panel. None of the diodes or buttons were lit up with the green energy of life… and the Time Lord felt a stab of pain in the shards of his hearts. He didn't want his pain to hurt his life partner, which is kind of contradictory to the fact that he was prepared to end her life with his own. He could feel what was happening, because it was tied directly to the breaking of his own hearts and spirit… her life force was draining away like a faulty battery because his own life was waning. They are not lying when they say that you can die of a broken heart… so imagine the pain of -two- broken hearts.

"I'm sorry, old girl… I finally… I finally did it. I drove him away. He's leaving me, just like they all do. And it's my fault… no matter what I do, I always drive them away… I destroy everything in them, until the husks of what they once were, leave me.."

The words are lifeless… muttered from between lips that are arid and can barely form themselves around the words that fall in a language that is supposed to be lilting and beautiful… and should probably be as dead as the rest of his People. He reaches out, his fingers flicking a small switch that should tap into the backup energy of the ship, waiting for the hum of life to sing out from the central column… but nothing happens. He steels himself as best he can, throwing the switch a second time.. Third.. Fourth… his fingers yanking the thing back and forth in an almost cruel desperation for it to work… and yet… nothing.

"Damn you! Stop blocking the energy… open the back up cell, old girl.. Let me do this! You took away my right to die along with them… you can't take this from me too.. You can't!"

The flat of his fist rains down on the console panel, smashing it once. And when the action produces some feeling beyond the numbing pain of his broken hearts, he blinks in surprise… and all of the pain, anger, hatred, and frustration of his life since the last 'great' Time War comes spilling out. Both hands form perfect, trembling fists and begin to beat at the console, the flats of each fist repeatedly bashing the living metal, the pained cry of the Cloister Bell failing to penetrate the cloud of emotion that overshadows his every possibility for reasonable thought. All he can do at the moment is continue those painful down thrusts of his clenched fists until he feels as if he is going to crack his fists into shards. And even that wouldn't have stopped the punches if his legs did not turn to jelly beneath him, giving way… sending him crumpling gracelessly to the metal grating of the floor. And there he would remain, curled into a near lifeless fetal ball of pain, tears cascading down the gentle curves of his cheeks… bathing the floor of his beloved ship as he weeps for the loss of his people… the loss of his friends, and family, and now… now, the loss of his -hearts-… his Captain. How could he have done something so stupid… said something so mean, and shoved the one he loves so very much away? Because… it was inevitable that he would hurt the man he loves… that he would turn on him, rip him away and shove him to arm's length… so, why not do it now? Why not bypass all the bull and show his poor immortal what he would be like in the end… the withered, emotionless wreck that Koschei had left him all those years ago…

Each graceless, heavy-booted step away from his Time Lord had been a fatal blow to his fragile heart… each step taxing his strength and resolve to the very limit. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to turn around and -beg- the Time Lord not to leave… throw himself at Theta Sigma and ask that futile question: Why! Why was he so loathsome… why did -everyone- eventually tire of him and cast him to the side? What had he done that made him some vile thing incapable of truly being loved? His whole life he had been an object… a thing… a means to satisfy someone's lust. And once they were satiated? He was kicked from their bed and told to move on. Ianto Jones had been one of the most stable factors in his life for the past few years, and even that jerk had used him… had happily screwed the Captain while he was trying to 'fix' his cyberized girlfriend… had loved sleeping with Jack, and demanding the Captain make commitments that had nothing to do with love. No, it had all been about -possession-. Gods forbid Jack flirt, or smile, or -anything- toward -anyone-, else Ianto whined and bitched and moaned, because it meant that Jack was not paying his every waking moment's attention to Ianto. Hell, if the butler was telepathic, he probably would've forced the Captain to -dream- about him too, on the few occasions that Jack could actually bring himself to sleep. But no… those moments… the sleeping moments, those were dedicated to memories and fantasies, and wishes centering around the man he loved with all of his being… the man he had just walked away from.

He couldn't breath… his hands lift, clawed fingers tearing at the collar of his shirt, trying desperately to rip the top two buttons open. He finally manages not to open them, no, but to rip them from the shirt, bits of thread and plastic button tumbling to the ground, his shirt falling open at the throat to free it for breath, to allow him to try and swallow past the lump forming there. He wants to cry… to scream out verbal frustration that would echo around the vast lobby, and likely cause the hearts of complete strangers to break for the anguish of a ruined man. He had severed the last tie keeping him alive… the -only- tie that had not had him testing his newest theory… his Doctor had kept him alive. And now? A mirthless chuckle thrusts from his lips, and he turns, walking away from the auction lobby… losing himself in the crowds moving from section to section, wandering like a zombie that saw little, if anything.

How long had he lain there, curled in that position? He could feel the powerful, forceful beating of his hearts as they struggled to pump blood to limbs that had remained curled for far too long. As he begins to slowly straighten his legs, he cries out softly at the sudden attack of pins and needles that assault his nerve endings. Of course, it served him right, laying there like a child recovering from a temper tantrum. But then, the dull, throbbing pain in his hands told him that that might be exactly what he was at this moment… a petulant child that had taken his anger out on a poor, defenseless creature that had not deserved it…

"Creature..! After all of this time, Theta Sigma, you would refer to me as a… creature? Well, I suppose that is better than what you -might- have said… so help me, by our old gods, sweetling, had you likened me to a family -pet- you might find yourself locked outside my doors…"

The Time Lord gasps in utter surprise as he hears the voice. It is not the vague whisper that sometimes made itself heard deep in the scarred corridors of his mind. No, this voice was soft, lilting… almost musical. And, more importantly, it was coming from somewhere to his right. He sits bolt upright, his eyes blinking furiously for a moment… tears blurring his vision. Bitter salt sluggishly falls from the corners of his dark eyes, and he is greeted by a vision that almost manages to finally still the beating of his hearts.

A woman sits cross legged to his right, her form a filmy phantom upon the mesh grating of the ship floor. She has short cropped brown hair so dark it is almost black, her bangs streaked faded ginger, eyes as brilliant, vibrant blue as his Captain's… she even wears a soft blue-grey sundress. He quirks a brow as she reaches down to smooth the hem of her dress, her smile soft, dimpled, and infinitely sad. Tears glitter upon her cheeks, and yet, he swears… were he to reach out and touch those gentle, angular cheeks, his fingers would be drenched in star dust…

"Old.. Girl?"

The words were rather laughable, given she barely looked 19. Her smile softens, saddens even further, and for a moment he wants nothing more than to reach out and hug her so close and so tight, his arms would go numb. He wanted to hold her… protect her… be there for her as she had always managed to be there for him… his fiery, sadly silent life partner. Her laughter is the whimsical grate of the Cloister Bell, and yet… even that sound bares her infinite sorrow. He lifts his hands, trying to push his palms against his ears as the sound grows… triples… reverberates.. Echoes painfully all around him. But he is linked to her, his sentient ship, and covering his ears does nothing to silence the sound that rips at his senses. No, she -wanted- him to hear that dreary intonation, even if it snapped his mind. If he planned on killing them, he would at least hear her out, damn it!

"Gilraen… my name is Gilraen, Theta Sigma…"

His laughter is bitter, a sudden, half insane burst of sound that causes the phantom to tilt her head, waiting for the sound to pass… understanding far too well how strange it must seem for him to see her like this… for her to -finally- be able to utter her name after all of these years.

"Star-wanderer… how very appropriate, luv. What do you want… why now?"

Slowly, her head straightens and she stands gracefully from where she had been sitting, seeming almost to float above her grated floor as she looks down at the 'child' she had been in charge of for so very long. Like a Mother protecting a wayward cub, she had been by his side for as long as she could, doing everything in her power to keep the disillusioned Godling going… and now, it seems, she had finally failed. Because not even -she- was powerful enough to bring her Time Lord and his Immortal together… not if they were going to be so stubborn, stupid, and utterly, pathetically childish about it all! If she could retain her Avatar form, you bet your arse she would hogtie them both to Theta's bedpost and make them work all of this silliness out!

"Do you like the dress, Theta..? Is it… blue enough? Soft enough? And the hair… is it short enough… spiked right? And the eyes… are they deep enough… steel enough?"

The words are spoken soft and gentle, trying to keep the frustrated ire out of her voice as she stands before him. When she speaks of the dress, she twirls, the hem floating ethereal grace about her slender form. When she stops spinning, facing her life partner once more, she reaches up to run her fingers through her hair, toying with the highlighted strands… and then, when she speaks of her eyes, she drops into an almost predatory crouch in front of the shocked, wide eyed Time Lord, her steel blue eyes wide, sparkling and glittering with life as she watches him for a very long moment. When he tries to look away, she growls softly, keeping his attention on her.

"Tell me child… do I look enough like him? Should I change anything..?"

"L-Like w-who..!"

The question trembles and quakes from his lips. Part of him is terrified that she means the bastard dead and gone, and yet, he -knows- of who she speaks… his Captain… his Jack. In truth, at the moment she looks almost as if she could be their child, integrating just enough of the Immortal and Time Lord into her being to look like an offspring of them. Theta's trembling hands lift, trying to push his palms against his eyes as tears cascade down his cheeks.

"You know who, Theta Sigma. I'm tired of this game… I have done everything in my power to bring you two to one another. I am killing myself at the moment, to keep my power off, and to dig into my damaged heart and project this image. Because I have something to tell you. When I'm done, if you still wish to kill us both, I will go quietly with you, sweetling."

He didn't want to hear whatever it was that she wanted to say. He just wanted it all to be over, forgotten. He is so very tired, and the one thing that could keep his hearts young… had walked away. And it was all his fault… everything was always his fault. No matter how hard he tried, he ruined everything he touched… no matter how hard he tried, he always messed up. The Master had been right… Koschei was the only one that could ever love such a pathetic screw up like him…

"Stop it, Theta. Stop using that murderous psychopaths ranting idiocy to hide behind. Yes, you fuck up… welcome to existence! Stop using that bastard to justify killing yourself. If you want to suicide, have the guts to do it because it's what you -want-, no what you think -he- would think you deserve. You know why you can't keep Jack close? Because you -crave- that twisted bastard… you -want- to be his pretty little bitch boi again, Theta Sigma.."

He couldn't stand it… couldn't -stomach- it, the sound of utter disgust in her voice. And being… called… -that- again. Academy days were long since gone… he and Koschei had both changed… one for the better, one for the worst. And he just couldn't stomach the idea of ever becoming -that- again… not after the Valiant. His hands tighten into those blunt fists once more, slamming down on the metal grating so hard that the pale skin bares the crisscrossed pattern of metal. There is the faintest flicker of fire deep within those dark eyes, anger waging war with the melancholy of hearts ache. And for one bright moment, Gilraen thinks that maybe she has managed to actually touch the deeper, darker part of Time's Champion that rests within the poor alien. But then he is withering again, his eyes fluttering closed as tears slide down his cheeks once more. What was the point..? He deserved the shadow of Koschei as much as he didn't deserve the Captain. If Jack hadn't met him, then he wouldn't be a fact… he wouldn't be so damn broken! Lorry would've lived his life in blissful ignorance as Captain Jack Harkness, wouldn't have joined the Doctor's army, and wouldn't be so bitter and disillusioned… yet something else that Theta had messed up. His anger dies before it can truly be realized, and Gilraen almost -screams- in frustration. Her Bell gives a single, angered chime, and then everything falls silent. Her bare feet click softly across the metal grating as she makes her way around the console in a single line. That's it… it was time to drop the sweet and proper act… she wants Time's Champion to the surface, even if it means -forcing- him out.

The lithe, young seeming Avatar reaches down, her fingers twining heavily in the suit jacket that the Time Lord wears, yanking him mercilessly upward, a single cry of surprise her only reward… at the moment. She throws the Doctor backward, his rear colliding painfully with the console, his lanky arms flailing as he tries to get away from the irate being. He is plunked unceremoniously on the console, the steel blue eyes holding an almost metallic tint of anger as her hand lifts, spindly fingers grasping the Lonely God by the throat. She could no sooner hurt him than she could intentionally hurt herself, but she hopes that in his broken state he will not remember that fact.

"You're pathetic, Theta. My poor Lonely God who doesn't even have the guts to go after what he wants. But that's alright… I'm sure your -precious- MASTER is waiting for you on the other side… maybe he will give you what you crave so much. Because at this point… Jack… is too good for you."

Master… that word cuts through his senses like a hot knife, leaving fire and pain in it's wake. He had never wanted that… had never wanted -Him- like that. He had sought what any teenager would at that age… love and companionship. But one glimpse into that eternal spark of innocence, and Koschei had become a predator in heat. And Theta Sigma had suffered for it. So, when the mention of that label begins to dredge up those horrible memories, he can feel the fire welling deep within. He reaches out, both palms connecting with the Avatar's shoulders, shoving her violently away. Gilraen grunts and seems to float backwards, across the grating as she watches Time's Champion rise to the surface of the broken Time Lord.

"Koschei is dead, -old girl-. I did not pull the trigger, but I knew what was coming… and I did not intercede. I did not kill the bastard, but I did not save him, either. That day, on the Valiant, I severed every last connection to that prick I ever had… and I -chose- Jack… he just didn't return my feelings. I won't -force- him to be mine, not like Koschei…. Not like what happened to me. If he wants to walk away, then that is his right."

The Avatar once again allows her Cloister Bell to chime sadly, her eyes closing for a moment. Great… the only chance she had had was to call Time's Champion to the surface and now… the warrior within the Oncoming Storm was prepared to give up as well. She withers faintly where she stands, her power systems beginning to shut down. She could -feel- herself fading from existence… could feel herself slipping away. She had taken a great chance harnessing this form to try and reach her Time Lord… She feels herself failing, falling, but before she can sink into nothingness, strong arms encircle her waist and pull her backwards, her back resting against her life partner's lanky chest. She gasps in surprise, having thought, for sure, that she didn't have the power to sustain touch. And then she feels it, the slow, gentle breath that caresses the nape of her neck, and she almost whimpers when she realizes what he is doing.. giving of his own life force to sustain her for a moment, just as he had breathed life into a single cell of her being to escape a parallel Universe.

"Thank you, my dearest, cherished friend. I will fight for him, in my way… thank you… for always saving me from myself."

Gently, carefully, he turns her in his arms, a single warm hand cupping her cheek gently. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment as he presses a soft, chaste kiss to her lips and then pulls away. She gives a single, 'breathless' gasp, her image falling away into shimmering stardust that covers the grating floor. The Time Lord smiles sadly and turns to kneel at the console panel, his hand sliding across the many hidden cubbies there. He pushes a button, a soft click echoing, the compartment popping open. He reaches in and draws out a handful of credit strips, shoving them into his pocket without checking the amount of each strip. He could alter them as he needed with the SSD. Once the compartment is closed, he stands and walks toward the doors. He shivers faintly when he feels the ship suddenly power up around him, his smile hard and unrelenting.

The doors of the sentient ship open, the eerie green and yellow light silhouetting the handsome, lanky man as he steps out, into the hanger. The doors close of their own accord, the last of the Time Lord's smoothing the suit jacket of dark blue that reminded him of a certain pair of steel blues. He reaches up, fingers twisting through the flyaway strands of his mahogany hair, forcing them into spiky, messy cascades that add a well worn, cozy look to his natural, boyish beauty. There was a reason so many had fallen in love with him over the centuries. He was beautiful, in a special way, in every one of his incarnations. Well, at least he had not tried to pull off that suave move… had not snapped his fingers to close the doors. No, his mind is on one thing, and one thing only… Jack. He had to find a way to get his Captain back. Though, no matter how much he wants… -needs- his immortal, he was not going to grovel. That simply was not him, especially when Time's Champion surfaces.

The place was vast, or so Jack is beginning to believe. Like an idiot, after his fight with the Time Lord, he had turned and simply allowed his feet to carry him away from the Doctor, never once stopping to figure out where he was going. He had seen a group of people, fell into step with them, and then just… spaced. His mind had flat lined for a time, issuing zero brainwaves, or so it had felt. So, was this what a broken heart felt like? He had spent so many years avoiding love, detached himself through acts of mind blowing, heart stopping, emotionless sexual fulfillment. And now, after he had broken his own cardinal rule, he was feeling what it was to be heartbroken for the very first time, and it is simply reaffirming his old ideals that lust was far easier than love. And yet… he still wants love, damn it! He -wants- his Time Lord… he wants a life aboard the Tardis… but, more importantly, he -needs- a life aboard the Tardis with the one man he would ever truly love. Anything else at this point could be labeled nothing short of self-destructive… and quite frankly, he's getting tired of self-destructive.

He takes a slow, deep breath, looking around the strange room that he finds himself in. The things being auctioned here made him smile… old Earth objects that had been little more than the everyday mundane when he was heading Torchwood. But here, in this strange place, they're collectibles. An old, mint condition Motorola Q cell phone sits in a display case, the asking price -beginning- at 307.81 million credits. Jack's jaw drops open faintly, a soft scoff escaping as he reaches into his pocket to touch his cell phone. Damn… if he could flash that thing around, he was likely to get more than enough to get him off planet… hell, to set him up for -life- after his wrist strap was fully repaired.

After a long moment, he reaches into his pocket and pulls the cell phone out, the small digital time readout unimportant. When one traveled in the Tardis, time really was useless in a way. He frowns faintly as he looks down at the contraption. Sure, he could sell it for a pretty credit, and yet… he couldn't give it up, even if he would need the credits. He flips the phone open, clicking one of the soft blue glowing buttons, his eyes narrowed faintly as he looks through the menu for the icon he wants. With slightly trembling hands he clicks the pale blue button once more, the small screen filling with picture thumbnails, and Jack can feel his heart crumble and beat wildly all at the same time. The first picture he pulls up is of Rose… the stupid blond that sported a Union Jack across her busty chest in the very height of the Blitz. To think that he had thought her beautiful, his Knight In Shining Armor complex ripped involuntarily to the surface when he saw her hanging from a rope, terrified. And then, there was the Doctor… the first moment he saw the big eared, brooding alien, he had known that he was in trouble. Not because he thought him a Time Agent… no, because the first moment he saw the irate alien, all he wanted to do was reach out, thread his hands across his cheeks, and kiss his breath away.

The next picture makes him bite his bottom lip until he fears there will be blood. The next picture is of the Time Lord and the selfish Earth Child. She had claimed that she would be with the Doctor forever, claimed that she loved him so very much, and yet… what had she done? She had made Mickey wait for her back home… had strung the Captain along with promises of affections that he was not used to. And then, when he had done the one thing he had never thought possible, she couldn't let it stand. No, he had -willingly- given his life so that the Time Lord would have the time needed to complete the wave and save the day. Even now he can remember the sense of… serenity he had experienced when he spread his arms wide and accepted the chilling electricity of the Dalek blast. He had accepted death because he loved the Doctor so very much, and his life sacrificed was much better than the Oncoming Storm's life sacrificed. But then Rose came along and spit on his sacrifice. She loved the Doctor oh so very much, and yet, couldn't let go of one of the sycophants that loved her… so she had to bring Jack back. She forced him back from death, and now he's stuck… a vile, -wrong- thing.

And then… what had happened? The Time Lord… the one he loved above all things, abandoned him. He can remember it still… the slow squeak of the atmo as it began to wear down… the cloying, disgusting stench of seared flesh and atom dust in the air. He couldn't breath… couldn't think. The only thought he could process was the joy that it meant, hopefully, that the Doctor had succeeded and was safe. And then, he had heard it, the whining grate of the Tardis engines as the sentient ship took off without him. He had wept until there were no tears left to produce. And now, here he was again… abandoned… alone… he flips the cell phone closed almost violently and shoves it into his pocket. What was so good about those memories, anyway? He reaches up, fingers rubbing gently at his cheeks and closed eyes, trying to brush away tears that have not yet fallen… as if the sweeping away of their phantom forms will stop them from falling altogether. And who knows, maybe it worked, since he does not feel the hot, salty stream of liquid cascading down his cheekbones. He takes a slow, steady breath to calm himself and turns away from the cell phone display, looking the room over once more, trying to figure out what door he had walked in through.

The Time Lord approaches the table he and Jack had arrived at earlier, leaning lazily against it as he peers down at the piece of paper. He frowns faintly when he sees seven other names under Jack's, the bids near insane as far as he was concerned… but, if it is what Jack wants… well, he'd be damned if his Captain didn't get it. He whistles softly in utter disbelief when he sees the latest bid… 11 million 3. The faintest hint of a sigh escapes him, and after a single moments hesitation, he grabs the pen and quickly scrawls: The Doctor, 23 million and 1. An absurd amount… but then, what was the price tag on love, right? The Time Lord blinks, the pen still resting against the paper, a faint shudder coursing through him. Yeah, he must have it bad to have such a… pathetically cheesy thought entering his mind. Price tag… really…? He puts the pen down and turns slowly, leaning back against the table, his lanky arms crossing over his chest slowly as he levels that intense, dark brown gaze on the patrons that bustle to and fro in search of whatever materialistic bliss they can lay claim to.

After a long moment, thick, tawny lashes kiss, hiding that strange, alien pretending to be a man gaze from those gathered. The eyes are the window to the soul, right? Then his are a road-map no one should ever have to follow. But then, his eyes are not his concern at the moment. No… those electric, star-dusted eyes of steel blue that glitter like diamond shards… that held such life… those are the eyes he is concerned with. As he sits/stands there, his arms crossed over his chest, so very still he looks almost like a statue, it would be Jack's eyes he daydreams about. And because of his position, perched there silently, he would not see the covetous, wanton glances cast in his direction. The lanky Time Lord looked more like some serene Angel than a man in that moment… the vision of Jack playing within his mind twists his lips into such a brilliant, beautiful… longing smile, that a passerby actually stops to stare at the alien… swept away by his beauty. She bites her bottom lip, casting her gaze around, seeing that it seemed as if the handsome, lanky stranger was unaccompanied… an opening, per chance? And yet, despite there being no one of seeming importance in the vicinity of the still man, she can't help but wonder -who- would inspire such a staggeringly beautiful, boyish smile on the handsome visage, for it had to be a person of some sorts that would call forth that kind of angelic smile… and no just any person. No, she recognized that look… it was the smile of shy, timid, oh so beautifully new love.

Oh but she could remember those glorious, young days of love… the days where everything seems to sparkled, brand new, to the eyes tinted in the sweet hues of love. Everything was a song and everything reminded you of some wonderful, unforgettable features of the one you loved. And that was the look the Time Lord was currently sporting. And strangely, though it might not do so with others, that smile was enough to deter her from approaching the handsome man. No, she would not bother to try and step between such blossoming love… and yet, she did feel the sudden tears that cascade down her cheeks, memories vying for attention she cannot spare. With a soft, pained gasp, she turns and walks quickly away.

The sound of a gasp causes every muscle in the Time Lord's form to tense, his senses coming alive with the sound, mistaking it for the kind of sound that drives his day to day life… the sound of trouble brewing like a storm preparing to engulf him. His eyes flash open, dark brown depths alive and alert, his jaw tensed faintly, a single muscle quivering and jumping in his cheek. Now was not the time for trouble… so help him, -NOW- was the time for the Universe to function on it's own for a change, and allow him some semblance of normality so that he can win back his Captain. Because if Jack walked away… if the Lonely God lost his Immortal, the Universe best learn to fend for itself real quick like, because it's Savior would abandon it. Slowly, the lanky frame pushes free of the table, all pretense of chaotic movement swallowed by a sudden display of angelic grace that would probably take the Captain's breath away, were he there to see it.

"Not now… not this time. For once, please… let there be peace."

It was strange to hear a being that craves the constant chaos of trouble, war, and fighting to beg for stillness, peace… but it couldn't be helped. For the first time in a very long time, he wants nothing but peace and quiet, and the chance to try and love his Captain. Call it… a trial period for them to get reacquainted. And then, once they had figured out the course of their journey together… -then- the Universe could loose control of itself once more, and together, the Savior and the Champion would do what they do best… save the day. But first, the Savior would have to get his Champion back. When he detects no threat, and realizes that the patrons of the Auction Platform are continuing on their way without threat, he relaxes, releasing a deep, trembling breath. Good. It seemed for now, his situation with his immortal aside, everything was stellar.

He was rankled, though he couldn't really explain why. Well, his fight with Jack, meeting the beautiful Avatar of his closest friend, and then literally kissing her into oblivion aside, he felt… stranger than usual. He catches a glimpse of movement to his left, his head snapping in that direction, intense brown eyes narrowing as an older man begins to approach the table. Theta doesn't understand what it is about him that does it… but one look in his direction, an the gentleman's eyes widen, his crooked, arthritic form tensing as he pivots upon his heel and hurries away as quickly as his weak legs will carry him. The Doctor frowns faintly, a sigh of confusion pursing his plush lips before he turns back to look at the auction sheet. One minute, and the item would be his… and maybe, -just- maybe, it will be enough to win back the one he is finally prepared to admit he loves. He leans against the table, his spindly fingers gripping the edge so tight that he can feel it biting into his fingers. His eyes close for a moment, a nervous whimper rolling from his tongue before he can stop it… his insides are somersaulting, trembling and rolling desperately as he tries to tell himself that for once in his miserable life, -something- will go right… he will -finally- be allowed some chance at happiness.

The Doctor is so lost in his musings that the sudden, loud hiss of a buzzer from the table causes him to jump back, lanky arms flailing in surprise, a faint yelp leaping from his trembling lips. When he realizes that it is just the buzzer signaling the end of this particular auction, he can feel heat fanning his cheeks and tipping his ears, a sheepish grin twisting his lips in kissable cuteness as he nears the table once more. No sooner is he to the table side, then a young woman, probably 17 years in age, approaches. She carries a clipboard, a pair of tortoise shell glasses resting low on her nose, so that she can peer over the top of them. Her hair, bright pink and shocking, causes the Time Lord to lift a single brow in question, his sheepish smile melting into an amused, faint smile as he waits patiently for the woman to arrive.

"Greetings, sir. I am Chazza Q… Mistress of today's Auctions. Might you be the Doctor?" when he nods faintly, she smiles, the thing cold and without emotion "Good. I need to see ID, please. Once you have produced ID, you will sign for the item, make your credit payment to me, and then I will give you your new property. Does this suit you?"

The Doctor reaches into the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out the thin leather wallet that houses the slightly psychic paper he tends to use in lieu of an actual identification paper. He opens the wallet, holding it up at face level, so that she can compare him to a photograph that isn't actually there. She looks the 'ID' over for a moment, nods a single time, and writes something across the top of her clipboard. She then turns it around, a pen held out to the Time Lord. He grabs the clipboard, reads the papers over with that eerily quick speed reading ability, signing quickly.

"Here you are, Madame. And here is the credits.. 23 million and 1, Madame."

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the handful of credit strips. He thumbs through them, producing the exact amount of credit, his smile apologetic, given the vast array of denominations. She takes each credit strip, one by one, running them across a small black screen at the bottom of each clipboard… and after each beep of approval, she settles them into her pouch and closes it. She watches the Time Lord for a long moment, her cool facade slowly shifting to one of curious interest.

"If I might be so bold, Sir… why this item? Given the amount of credit you just flashed… it seems as if there would be so many more worthwhile investments in this place…"

The Time Lord's features shift subtly, his smile faint and mild. He could always come up with some outrageous lie, given how easy it is for him to think on his feet… ever the type to come up with the strangest, most annoying verbal vomit to spew at any given moment. Easiest way to throw someone off course. But in the end, he decides to go with the truth.

"A friend wants it… am hoping to use it to get back in good graces. So, where is it?"

The woman's interest immediately melts away, her cool facade returning. She had hoped the reason behind the desire for this lot number would be more interesting… not some mundane lover's gift. She walks over to the table and touches the photo of the item, a screen appearing. She quickly types in her access code and the photo shimmers, the item suddenly materializing into existence. The Doctor's smile softens, becomes so very gentle, excitement threading through those beautiful, intoxicating brown eyes. He walks forward and plucks the item up, his grin brightening, his eyes dazzling with hope in such a volume as he has never truly felt. He chuckles faintly at the sudden thought that enters his mind… Charlie had his Golden Ticket, and the Doctor has… this. He carefully shoves the item into his pocket, frowning faintly. Now comes the hard part… where could he find his Captain?

Jack frowns faintly, his eyes darting between the two hallways. He had been looking around for what felt like forever, following halls that went this way and that… pretending he didn't see the covetous stares that most cast in his direction. And when they got up the guts to actually approach? He stared them down with those intense steel blues, watching in silent amusement/annoyance as some immediately turned and walked away, and others fought their fear to try and speak… at which point he sidestepped them wordlessly and continued on his path. And where did that path eventually lead him? To the main lobby… where his heart nearly stops. The first thing he sees, his gaze somehow zeroing in on him, is the Time Lord in all his breathtaking, lanky glory.

The Time Lord is leaning gingerly against a column, his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulder resting against the smooth marble. One leg is crooked so that his ankles cross lightly, his smirk downright delicious… and bored. Absently, and without thought, the tip of Jack's warm tongue snakes from his mouth, tracing his sensual lips in a slow, trembling circle, trying desperately to add moisture to arid flesh. His steps subtly, slowly change… going from an unbothered, slow gait to the precise, feral dancer's step that turned even more heads, sending poor hearts fluttering. The Doctor's eyes snap toward the slow approach of Jack, and he has to force himself to swallow, to even his breath before he moans. The Captain looked like Adonis himself, parting the patrons of the platform as he makes his way toward him. He clears his throat, giving himself time to get his voice under control, knowing that he would eventually have to speak.

"Theta…"

"Lorry.."

The air seemed to crackle with electricity with the utterance of those two names, rubberneck suddenly turning tale and escaping their current vicinity… did the sense it? The current that connected these two men, despite their stumbling, staggering misunderstandings that seemed to be pushing them apart…

"You're late, Jack. The auction is over… you were outbid several times over… sorry."

Jack's dimpled smile is wiped from his features, a soft sigh escaping in it's place. He was disappointed and yet… how could he be too let down when his Time Lord was talking to him again? And what was that… force, emulating from the other male? He finds himself taking another step forward, approaching the Time Lord's personal space without reason… feeling drawn. Theta's breath catches deep in his throat, and he tries to smile as he normally would. But it was impossible. No matter how hard he told himself to relax, be normal… he can't. His hearts are pounding desperately, his eyes trying to wander the masculine, athletic form of his immortal. He really does just want to close the space between them and show Jack just how delicious a kiss can truly be.

"So… are you ready to go? I want to show you a neat little item I got while you were away."

The Time Lord pushes himself off the column and turns with that chaotic grace, Jack's eyes trailing the tight form of the lanky alien as he passes… his tongue once more tracing his warm lips before he moves forward quickly to catch up with the long stride of the energetic alien.

"Well… at least something good came out of all this. So, what'd you get, Doctor?"

"I'll show you when we get back to the Tardis. I'm ready to get out of here."

Jack quirks a brow in confusion. Usually, the older man was bursting at the seams to share some bit of information, loving the chance to show off his brilliance. So, what would make the Time Lord decide not to tell him yet? Why make him wait? His broad shoulders shrug faintly and he falls into easy step with the Doctor, his hands clasped behind his back as they head out of the main lobby and into the hangar. The Tardis sits where the Time Lord left it, and in a stroke of cheekiness that could be attributed fully to Time's Champion, he winks at Jack, the Captain quirking a brow, waiting to see what he was going to. The Time Lord lifts his hand, his fingers snapping. When the Tardis doors fly open, the pale green and yellow light spilling out, Jack actually giggles softly in awe, shaking his head slowly. It was amusing, seeing the Time Lord pull off such a suave, sexy move. The Doctor stands tot eh side, ushering the Captain into the ship, Jack stepping through and walking up the ramp with that same feral grace that he exhibited from time to time. The Time Lord gulps softly, his eyes taking in the faint swish of the immortal's hips, the clinging slacks that conform to his pert rear. He bites his bottom lip, breathing deep and slow as he enters into the Tardis, keenly aware of the fact that he and Jack were now alone in an enclosed space, with bedrooms not too far away. Definitely not the direction his mind would normally go, but he couldn't help it. Every glance toward his Captain sent heat tidal waving through his body.

"So.. What is it you want to show me, Doctor?"

Jack leans lightly against the rail that circles the console dais, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed patiently as he waits. Theta slowly walks toward the console, his fingers dancing over the panel… the soft, whining grate of the central column announcing their dematerialization and entrance into the Vortex. Once the ships is moving, he turns slowly, leaning his rear back against the console, his lopsided smirk causing the Captain to tilt his head in curiosity. Silently, with that playful, boyish smirk that just 'screamed' suave, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something. Jack's eyes widen and his jaw drops faintly. In the Doctor's hand is a blue package, white, blue, and yellow writing written across it… the word Cadbury done in white… Dairy milk done on blue… and in yellow, the word Caramello. Jack can feel his mouth water, his steel blues narrowing further as he watches the Time Lord brandish the item. And after a moment, his lisp purse in a faint frown.

"You outbid me, Doctor?"

The words are almost… injured. The Time Lord' eyes widen faintly when he realizes what Jack thinks has happened. He steps forward, his head shaking quickly, afraid that the immortal would bolt again.

"No, Jack. Other people outbid you. When I couldn't find you, I outbid the last bidder, to make sure you got it.. I… I bought it for you, Captain…"

Jack's jaws shut with an audible click, his steel blues darkening faintly toward a cobalt hue. The Time Lord bought it… for him? But why? The Doctor very rarely did things like that… unless you were Rose. But.. For him? Never… he walks forward slowly, taking the candy bar from the Time Lord's outstretched hand, turning the package over in his palms with a grin that was boyish and so damn innocent for that split moment, that a faint whimper falls from the Doctor's parted lips. Jack looks up in confusion, quickly convincing himself that he didn't just hear such a thing. If he admitted that the Doctor was capable of such sounds, it would shake the foundation of their entire friendship. And at the moment, that is the last thing he wants. He -needs- this strange, unique friendship of theirs. He leans lightly against the metal railing and after a long moment, he peels back the blue wrapping, the sound of tearing paper unnervingly loud in the room. The Doctor watches silently, overwhelmed by the innocent delight that colors the Captain's beautiful features. Once the blue paper has been ripped free of part of the foil wrapping, the Captain slices into that next, peeling it away from the connected squares of milk chocolate.

"You know, Captain… I want a bite of that."

Jack quirks a brow when the Time Lord states that he will want a piece. His bottom lip juts out in a pout that almost causes the Doctor to cross the mesh grate floor and nibble at the warm, silken lip as he longs to do. Instead, he reaches down, his hands grasping the metal panel, the thought being that if he can anchor himself here, he won't go near the alluring immortal. Jack snaps one of the small chocolate squares free, holding it out toward the Time Lord… the Doctor shakes his head slowly…

"Not that bite, Jack."

The immortal quirks a brow, confusion evident on his features for the moment. He shrugs his shoulders after a moment and pops the square into his mouth, shivering as the chocolate shell explodes between his blunt teeth, caramel oozing across his tongue. And before he can stop it, a soft, sensual moan escapes his lips, and the Doctor's head snaps around, eyes intent upon Jack as the Captain slips a finger into his mouth. The Time Lord quickly closes his eyes, but that does no good. Instead of just seeing the Captain with his finger in his mouth, his oh so brilliant, and oh so annoying imagination begins to run with the thought. No, what he sees in his mouth is Jack's slick, warm tongue lapping chocolate off the strong digit.. His mind imagining the warm wetness of the tongue.. The slow, sensual thrust of it up and down the finger… again, a whimper tumbles from his lips and he turns around quickly, facing away from Jack, leaning heavily against the console. He was -not- having those thoughts… he couldn't be. After a long moment, once his hearts have ceased pounding wildly, and his breathing is slow and simple, he turns back around, and nearly loses his balance. He has to push himself roughly back, against the console.

Jack is still leaning lightly against the rail, half of the candy bar consumed. His finger tips are dabbled lightly with caramel and melted chocolate, the gooey, sugary confection glistening across his bottom lip. Theta could almost -taste- the caramel… and would -love- to taste the Captain's lips right along with it. After a moment of debate, he takes a slow, deep breath, finally making a decision. He straightens after a moment, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his hair, then smoothes his suit jacket. He closes the distance between himself and Jack, just barely standing within the immortal's personal space.

"So… what about my bite, Captain?"

The words tumble forth, almost purred, verbal velvet that snags across the immortal's senses, almost making him drop the last few squares of chocolate. Instead, he manages, hands trembling faintly, to snap one of the melting squares of chocolate from the remaining bar, holding it out to him. The Time Lord's lips twist into that devastatingly handsome smirk, and his head shakes slowly…

"Not that bite, Jack…"

Ok, those words were beginning to confuse him. If the Time Lord wanted a bite of the chocolate, why did he continue to say no? The Captain shrugs his shoulders yet again, and with a sigh, pops the piece of chocolate into his mouth… and then all hell breaks loose… and two lives change forever.

"That bite."

The Doctor declares softly before he is moving forward, Jack's brow quirking a second before they connect. One moment he is leaning lightly against the rail… the next, he can barely stand. His free hand thrusts backward, his hand wrapping tightly around the metal to balance himself as he feels the Time Lord's lanky frame slide against his. The Doctor's left hand slides across the immortal's waist, fingers probing the taut flesh through the clothing of his shirt, until he can press his palm flat against the small of Jack's back, forcing the immortal firmly against him. His right hand lifts, threading across Jack's cheek to tilt his head slightly as their lips collide. The warm, wet tip of the Time Lord's tongue peeks from his mouth, dragging sensually across the Captain's bottom lip, becoming sticky with the remnants of caramel that cling to plush flesh. The moan that build sin the back of the Doctor's throat is near animalistic as his tongue plunges deep into Jack's mouth.

The rest of the candy bar tumbles free of Jack's hand, forgotten, the chocolate and caramel streaked digits lifting to bury deep in the fabric at the front of the Doctor's shirt, dragging that lanky frame all the closer as Jacks suddenly turns, reversing his position with the Doctor. The Captain pushes the Doctor firmly against the railing as he feels the Time Lord's tongue slither into his mouth. Chocolate and caramel melt on the immortals fevered tongue, and the moment the Doctor feel sit coating his own, the animalistic moan finally explodes from him, being swallowed by the immortal's mouth. Their breathing becomes ragged and desperate the longer they engage in the kiss. Tongues wrestle, thrusting across one another, spreading the caramel and chocolate between their mouths, coating tongue and lips. When the Time Lord finally pulls back, Jack gasps wantonly, his eyes blurred in confusion… both sets of lips glistening with melted chocolate and caramel.

"… what?"

In a perfect mirroring of the Time Lord's favorite word of exclamation, Jack tries to voice all of his confusion… his desire. The Time Lord's fingers begin to caress lightly over the immortal's cheek, the silken caress making the Doctor tremble faintly. Jack whimpers faintly at the caress, his handsome, boyish features contorted with confusion and pain… the Captain is terrified that the kiss is not real… that this moment is not happening.

"Doctor.. I… what…"

The Time Lord's hand slides away from the Captain's cheek, his pointer thumb caressing Jack's chocolate tainted bottom lip as a means of quieting him. And as a means to collect the chocolate that rests there. He lifts his thumb, his tongue sliding from his lips to lap at the chocolate smeared digit, the Captain gasping faintly at the sight. The Time Lord's smile is soft and oh so loving as he leans forward..

"Jack… stop it."

He whispers softly, his lips suddenly covering the immortal's in another kiss of probing sweetness, tongues thrusting and fencing against one another, chocolate and caramel further coating slick flesh as the two lose themselves in a sweet, loving kiss…


End file.
